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ZARRAH
Zarrah waited until it was nearly the tenth hour, then eased her bed away from the wall, revealing the block she’d pushed partially outward. It would be loud when it fell, so she needed to time this just right.
She tucked the nail into her bodice, then braced her heels against the block of stone and waited.
Her heart beat like a drum in her chest, her palms clammy, sweat beading on her brow. From fear, yes, but also from anticipation. Tonight, she’d regain the honor she’d lost in capture. Tonight, she’d have vengeance. For her mother. For Yrina. For herself.
Bong.
The first of ten tolls of the clock, and she shoved her heels against the stone, hands braced against the floor. It made a grinding noise as it shifted, then stuck.
“Come on!” She shoved harder as the clock tolled a second, third, and fourth time. But it wouldn’t move. The cursed thing was wedged tight.
Bong!
“Stupid piece of shit!” She tried with her hands, slamming them against the block, but it wouldn’t move.
Bong!
She switched back to using her feet, sweat drenching her skin as she pushed and shoved, the seventh and eighth and ninth tolls rolling through the inner sanctum.
“You can do this!” She slammed her feet one last time.
The block shifted, sliding forward and falling, her feet slipping through the opening in the wall. Heart in her throat, Zarrah clenched her teeth, waiting for the crunch of it hitting the brush below.
Bong!
By fate or luck or intervention of a higher power, the block landed right as the tenth toll sounded, the rolling echo drowning out most of the noise. Still, she held her breath, waiting to see if anyone came to investigate.
But no one did.
There is no going back now.
Checking to ensure she had everything she needed, Zarrah tossed her velvet cloak down. Then she rolled on her belly and stuck her legs through the opening, shimmying backward, swearing as her ass wedged in the opening. Pushing with her palms, she ground her teeth and forcefully pushed her body through, angling her shoulders and allowing her weight to pull her down until she was hanging from the opening by her hands.
She climbed lower, fingers and toes finding all the tiny cracks and grooves Keris used, then easing herself into the bushes. Retrieving the cloak, she ensured the hood was pulled forward. Then she strode onto the pathway, moving with total confidence toward the tower.
Anyone who saw her would believe her a wife summoned to attend the king, but her heart was still in her throat as she passed one guard, then another, both nodding respectfully at her. Instead of going to the entrance, as Zarrah rounded between topiaries, she cut left, keeping to the shadows and making her way to the base of the tower.
Pulling off her cloak, she wrapped it in a bundle that she tied to her waist. Taking a deep breath, Zarrah started climbing.
Time and weather had eroded the mortar between blocks of stone, and in places, pieces of rock had cracked off, giving her endless choices of handholds, but by the time she’d climbed thirty feet, her arms trembled with exhaustion.
And she was not yet halfway to Silas’s window.
Keep climbing,she screamed at herself, for, excluding the risk of falling, her greatest worry was that the guards manning the inner walls would see her shadow on the tower. If that happened, not only was her chance at killing Silas lost, but she’d also get an arrow in her back for her troubles.
This high up, the stink of the corpses on the inner walls was fainter, the smell of the coming rain filling her nose. Yet it was no mercy, because it was carried by a fierce breeze that buffeted her body, threatening to pull her from her perch.
Keep climbing.
Glancing up, she determined herself more than halfway, and so she risked a backward glance. Soldiers moved along the top of the inner wall, their eyes on the well-lit base. More stood in the turrets on the corners, eyes equally watchful. But they were all looking down, their concern for someone trying to escape, not for someone trying to climb into the belly of the beast.
The stone she gripped with her right hand abruptly gave way.
A gasp of terror tore from Zarrah’s lips as she dropped, the fingers of her left hand screaming as she dangled from them, her toeholds lost.
She scrabbled for another handhold, her breath desperate gasps until she managed to shove her fingers in a gap, her toes finding holds.
